Two:Have we met?
477 Words
The steady tick… tick… tick… of the clock echoed through the silent cabin.
Julian’s anxious eyes shifted repeatedly between the mysterious girl and the old clock hanging on the wall. Neither of them moved.
The girl slowly stretched out her hand.
“Julian?” she called softly, uncertainty lacing her voice.
His eyes lingered on her.
“…Your face.”
She tilted her head ever so slightly.
“There’s more to me than a face.”
“And yet…” Julian replied cautiously, “you don’t have one.”
A faint smile tugged at the blankness where her lips should have been.
“Don’t I?”
“You tell me.” He folded his arms. “What does it look like?”
She remained silent for a moment before answering.
“Some things are better left unsaid.”
“Your face isn’t one of them.” He took another step forward. “A picture is worth more than a thousand words… isn’t it?”
“Am I supposed to know that?”
Julian narrowed his eyes.
“Who are you?”
She met his gaze without flinching.
“You are not in a position to question me.”
A small laugh escaped him.
“Really?”
He moved even closer.
“You’re standing in my cabin, calling me by name… while looking like a faceless ghost.”
He paused.
“I think that gives me every right to ask questions.”
The room fell silent.
Then she spoke.
“Are you always this defensive?”
Julian smirked.
“Are you always this offensive?”
For the first time, she seemed caught off guard.
“…Hazel.”
Julian raised an eyebrow.
“Meaning?”
“My name.”
She answered quietly.
“Hazel.”
He nodded thoughtfully.
“That’s a beautiful name.”
His expression quickly hardened again.
“And your face?”
Hazel sighed softly.
“Can you not ask?”
“You tell me.”
Her violet eyes drifted away.
For someone who had prepared for countless possibilities…
She hadn’t prepared for Julian.
He wasn’t afraid.
He wasn’t running.
He simply wanted answers.
Just then—
Tick…
Tick…
Tick…
The old clock struck midnight.
Hazel looked toward it before smiling.
“Happy birthday, Julian.”
His eyes widened.
He turned instinctively toward the clock.
12:00 AM.
His birthday.
A bitter smile crossed his lips.
“Another year…”
he whispered.
When he turned back—
Hazel was gone.
No footsteps.
No creaking floorboards.
No open door.
Nothing.
Only silence.
Julian stood frozen for a while, staring at the empty room.
Then, almost unconsciously…
he smiled.
Perhaps…
there really was more to her than a face.
Outside, the rain continued to fall against the roof of the cabin.
“Hazel…”
he whispered into the night.
For the first time in years…
Julian smiled on his birthday.
- Writer
